Child of my Heart
by Analyn 100
Summary: Sequel to When the Bough Breaks. All Harry wants is to make his wife happy again. Little does he know that even the best of intentions can pave the road to hell. Based on Kurinoone's Reader's Choice chapters 6 and 11.
1. Prolouge: In the Name of Love

** Author's Note: If you have not read my previous story "When the Bough Breaks" or Kurinoone's Reader's Choice Chapter 11, please do as this will make little sense without the backroud info. Chapter 6 of Reader's Choice is set in the future. It was the inspiration for this fic but its not needed to understand the story.

Child of my Heart: by Analyn 100

Prolouge: In the Name of Love

Harry James Potter sat down in the Stadium, watching as Irish chasers – he had totally forgotten their names – scored another goal securing their lead. His wife stood by his side, cheering with perhaps a little too much enthusiasm. He sighed, when his mother-in-law had suggested a romantic vacation to reconnect, he had imagined dining and dancing, not Quidditch, but as long as Ginny was happy, that was all that mattered.

Over the roar of the crowd, they could hear an all too familiar sound. It was the high pitched wail of a child's cry. Harry groaned, why did people have to take young kids to sports stadiums? Buying the kids game themed toys was all fine and good, but bringing them to a sports stadium at that age? They could hear the sound getting louder, could hear the rustling as someone tried to get past the crowd and to the stairs. Harry and Ginny backed up against the seats as the young mother made her way toward them, cradling a boy who could not have been much over a year old. Harry stopped cold at the realization –the little boy was same age their own son would have been had the pregnancy not ended tragically in the Orc attack by the Market two weeks before his due date. He watched his wife's eyes track the mother as she soothed her child on her way down the stadium steps, her eyes lingering for long moments after the young woman had disappeared from view.

"Ginny…" he began softly, pulling her close to him, kissing her cheek softly. He was not surprised to find fresh tear tracks marring her face.

She shook her head, hugging herself tightly as she struggled out of his arms and retreated down the same steps. At the base of the stairs, she turned the opposite direction of the young mother.

Harry sighed. "Excuse me," he muttered making his way past the last few people in the aisle.

He ran back and forth past the concession stands and advertising booths to the woman's restroom. "Excuse me," he called to a passing elderly woman. "Can you check if my wife is in there? Ginny? She left the game, she's been gone a while and I think –"

The woman nodded. She disappeared into the room, only to reappear with Ginny in tow a few minutes later. The sight that met him was an all too familiar one: Ginny's eyes were puffy and swollen. He reached out his arms to her and she leaned into the offered comfort gratefully.

"Ginny, sweetheart, why are you doing this to yourself? If you want a child so badly, why don't you just stop taking the potion? I hate seeing you like this. Talk to me, please!"

Ginny just sobbed on his shoulder, shaking her head. "I can't, Harry. I just can't…not yet. I'm not ready for that yet."

It had been this way for far too long. Ginny had been closed off to the idea of intimacy for months after Jaime's passing. He had understood, truly he had. The pain had been too fresh. But it had been over a year since Jaime's passing. She had opened up to intimacy again. He had been delighted and then dismayed days later when he had seen his wife measure up her prescription birth control potion for the first time. It was as though she was determined to stay miserable.

Harry had tried to be patient and understanding with her, but he had had enough. He was not a patient man, not by any means. He was a man of action, a man who saw what he wanted and pursued it with everything he had. Was it such a crime to want to see his wife smile again? To see that pregnancy glow and giddy smile again? He had hoped there was another way to heal the hole that the miscarriage had left in their lives, but there wasn't. His parents had been right. The only thing that could heal that gaping chasm in their hearts was another child.

He hadn't wanted to do it. He had hoped that Ginny would come to the conclusion herself but she hadn't. She had forced his hand, for her own good. Last month he had decided to brew the prescribed potion himself with stale ingredients. He had disposed of the potion she had purchased and filled the vials with the useless concoction. He had then scheduled them for joint annual check-ups for just a few days before the potion would run out, for the sole purpose of the pregnancy test that was sure to be included. If his wife went back to the Apothecary and began taking the proper potion again any pregnancy would end just as soon as it had started.

One miscarriage had been tragic; a second would be more than they could bear. He tightened his grip on his wife, holding her close while she muffled her cries on his shoulder. He hoped his plan worked. It had to work.


	2. Chapter 1: Meant to Be

Child of My Heart: by Analyn100

Chapter One: Meant to Be

Harry Potter hated waiting….for anything at all. He detested it. His mother had insisted that it was a virtue that he needed to learn to survive in the ordinary world without loosing his mind. He had gotten better with his patience over the years at least he thought so - he wasn't quite sure his mum was convinced – but today what little patience he had accumulated over the years was being pushed to the limits. He was pacing around the Healer's Exam room, in the same way he used to pace prison cells. Any minute now, that wretched man was going to walk through those doors with that test result and he would know if his plan had worked.

"Harry, sit down, you're going to put a whole in the floor at this rate."

Harry turned around to regard the red-headed woman lying on the exam table next to him. If he didn't know any better, he'd swear she was comfortable there. She had almost managed to fall asleep, whereas he was too worked up for anything of the kind.

"I can't help it," he admitted, taking her advice by sitting down in the nearest chair.

Ginny got up and sat down next to him, putting a hand on his knee to stop the nervous leg shaking that had taken the place of pacing. "What are you so worked up about anyway? You've been this way for days."

He drummed his fingers on the chair's armrest, looking at anything in the room that was not his wife. He could lie through his teeth to a lot of people, but not her. She could always see the lie in his eyes regardless of their color.

"I'm just nervous about your pregnancy test, that's all."

"My pregnancy test? Is that all? Harry, between the condoms and potions I think it's safe to say that I'm NOT pregnant. They just have to test it every few months to make sure I'm not pregnant so I can get another potion prescription. Really, it's nothing to worry about. Now just relax, read a Quidditch magazine."

Harry pulled the first one out of the rack and started reading about the Scottish team, his mind not taking in a single word of it. Ginny had been nauseated and had put on some weight in the last few weeks, but weight gain for a woman didn't necessarily mean pregnancy, neither did nausea. Both were quite commonplace apart from pregnancy, but he couldn't help but hope.

"What if, what if it is positive?" he cautiously suggested, studying his wife.

He recognized the guarded look that took over her features in a matter of seconds. It was a mask he knew all too well.

Ginny just shook her head. "It won't be," she declared with absolute certainty.

"It's possible, Ginny, even with birth control. And…well, it wouldn't be a bad thing, would it?"

Ginny just folded her arms across her chest and glared at the wall, not even giving him the courtesy of an answer. "I just can't," she answered softly after several minutes, still staring at the wall.

Harry sighed, staring at the opposite wall. That was the only answer he ever got. He was starting to understand how frustrated his family had been with him for years when he would insist that he was fine despite the fact that he obviously was not. She was copying his habits of years gone by. She was guarding her heart so closely for fear of it breaking all over again. She was hiding her pain so thoroughly that she may have well donned his old silver mask.

His dad's words echoed in his head – the same words he had spoken to a grieving Harry who had lain writhing on his sitting room floor just days after Jaime's passing.

'…_.unlike most parents you know the pain of the loss already and you will do anything to avoid it ever again. Just don't push her into intimacy before she's ready for it. Post-pregnancy hormones can be a nightmare, especially after a miscarriage'._

He had followed his father's advice. He had let her be, had allowed her to come to him. He had ridden the rollercoaster that was grief and hormones thrown together. It had been a tumultuous ride – with him spending several nights on his parents' couch – but he had known it would not be easy. But when his dad had said they would _'do anything to avoid it ever again'_ he hadn't imagined the lengths Ginny would go to protect her mending heart.

The silence remained unbroken until the Healer walked in. They both turned around in their seats, feigning interest as he praised their test results. He really wished all of his young patients were as fit and healthy as the couple sitting before him. They, however, did not seem to care. Taking a hint, he pulled out the last leaflet from the bottom of the stack. "Now in accordance with procedure, we ran a urine pregnancy test on Mrs. Potter…" He noted how they both were suddenly paying attention "and congratulations, it's positive. You're pregnant."

Harry heard nothing past the word, 'congratulations'. He kept his face calm and passive, though his heart was doing summersaults. "Ginny," he took her hand in his, noting her blank stare at the wall and the slow shaking of her head. "Ginny, honey, we're going to have a baby. You're going to be a mum."

Ginny snapped out of it, her eyes coming back to focus. She ignored her husband and turned to the Healer, who had taken an instrument out of his bottomless pit of a bag and was pointing a light at her eyes. "I'm sorry, what? How?"

"I was just telling you that your pregnancy test was positive."

"But, I'm on the potion. That's supposed to prevent – "

"The potion, ma'am, alters your cycle greatly reducing the likelihood of pregnancy by more than 95%. Pregnancy while taking the potion is uncommon but not unheard of –"

"Sorry, I just – I need to go. Sorry." Ginny rushed out of the room, not sparing a backward glance at her husband who remained hunched over in his chair, his head in his hands.

Harry stayed seated, rubbing his eyes, knowing he was in trouble now. "Boy or girl?" They had used the muggle tests last time knowing that those would not give away the baby's sex. With magical tests on the other hand, the resulting line on the stick would be color-coded: black meant negative, positive was either red for a girl or blue for a boy.

"It's a girl. Mr. Potter, are you okay? I know this comes as a shock…"

Harry nodded, letting the knowledge sink in, breathing a sigh of relief. He had been hoping for a girl. At least this way, he wouldn't have to wonder which baby boy Ginny would be referring to. Anything that could differentiate this pregnancy from the last one would be welcome. "Yeah, I'm fine. I better…" He inclined his head at the door.

The Healer clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Go on, son. Talk to her."

Harry hurried out of the office, mentally preparing for the wrath that was sure to come.

He apparated straight into the kitchen and was a little alarmed to find that Ginny was making herself a pot of tea, something she had stoutly refused to drink while carrying Jaime, but kept his own counsel. Tea was nothing, a little caffeine wouldn't hurt, would it?

Ginny glanced up from her tea, a scowl marring her beautiful face. "How? I followed the instructions, took it on time every day…"

Harry leaned up against the cabinet several feet away, trying to gauge her reaction. "Birth control" he began slowly, licking his lips, "it's not a guaranteed thing. Women get pregnant on the potion all the time."

"Yes, I know, that's why I gave you condoms, you git."

Harry flushed Weasley red at the thought of those horrid things. "Yes well, suppose I _forgot_ them a time or two?"

Ginny's eyebrows disappeared into her hair. "You what?"

"Well," Harry ran a hand through his hair, his features taking on a look of apprehension that didn't look like it belonged there. It looked almost foreign. "You know, it was vacation and romantic and I ran out those last few nights and forgot to get another box…"

As his wife's eyes got wider with every word, he totally threw out the idea of admitting _everything_. She'd blow the roof to the moon if she knew what he'd done to her potion. He thought he'd been caught for sure when she mentioned that her potion didn't quite taste the same as it had the previous month. He had breathed a sigh of relief when the Apothecary told her that a change of taste was expected if older ingredients were used, but it was alright as long as the potion was consumed prior to the date on the label which had been a mere month away. In other words, he had been saved by luck.

"You _forgot_?" She was whispering, not shouting. That was always a bad sign. It was a sign that she was struggling to hold on to her last ounce self-restraint. "Why didn't you say anything? I could have taken one of those morning-after pills. I told you I didn't want a child!"

"I thought about it." It was a lie, he really hadn't. Not for one moment. "But, Gin, I've seen the way you look at mothers with their children. You want that, I know you do. I thought maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing, maybe it was meant to be." He had been hoping –had been certain - that Ginny would get all nostalgic when she heard the word 'positive', now he wasn't so sure.

"I don't want _a_ child. I want _my _child, my son. My Jaime…" She took several shaky breaths, blinking away the tears, leaning on the table for support. "I need him, Harry. I need my son."

Harry stood by watching his wife succumb to her grief again in a way she had not done for months, longing to comfort her. He had promised her family that he would do whatever he could to make her happy, anything she wanted he would gladly give. The thought that he could not give her the one thing she longed for above all else was one that he could not tolerate.

He reached out a hand to her shoulder. "What about your daughter, Ginny? Does she not deserve the same care?" He knew it was a low-blow, but if he could just turn on that maternal instinct…there just had to be a way.

"My daughter? It's a girl?"

She rewarded him with that small, almost hopeful smile. There it was.

Harry's heart leapt up to his throat at the sight of that beautiful smile, despite the fact that it was a far-cry from the radiant joy he remembered. "Yes, our baby girl. And I was thinking of naming her after her dear old dad, what do you think?"

Ginny blank stare almost sent him laughing. "You're kidding. And I thought your ego could get no larger. So you want to name her what? Harriet Potter? No. She's going to have a hard enough time getting a boyfriend with you as her father and you want her to give her your name?"

"What? No. I was thinking Alexa. You know, after Alex. It means 'defender' and we both know I'm going to teach the kid to kick ass. We could call her Lexie for short."

This time Ginny actually did laugh. "No, I don't think so."

"Oh come on, why not, it's perfect." He pretended to pout, giving her his best puppy dog eyes that usually had her melting. Apparently she was growing immune to that look.

"Is not perfect, it's all wrong," Ginny laughed. He would never tire of that sound, one he had not heard in so long. "Do you really want to have to explain to your teenage daughter that her name comes from the alias you used to sneak out into the dead of night to go to fight clubs and pubs? As soon as she starts dating, she'll throw that one right back at you and you know it."

"Point taken." He made a face as though he had just swallowed a whole sour lemon.

"Any second choices?"

"Well, I was thinking Rose for a middle name. Mum wants a flower name, something about family tradition."

"So why not Rosalyn? We could call her Rosa."

Harry shook his head. "Too….girly."

"Too girly? Harry, it's a baby girl, what do you expect?"

"How about Anna? Short for Lilianna. That way we'd be naming her after my mum without all of the confu –"He stopped short as the smile disappeared from her face. Oops, that had been the same reason they had chosen the name Jaime instead of James. Apparently both of his name ideas had just gotten nixed.

"Harry, I can't…" She was hugging herself tightly again.

Harry pulled her into his arms, wrapping them around her, holding her close to his heart. "It's going to be okay, Gin. It won't end that way again, even if it means that I have to follow you around everywhere you go. Even if I have to quit my classes for a term, I will not allow that to happen, again, I promise. It's going to be okay," he whispered over and over again, rocking her in his arms. "Everything's going to be okay. So," he whispered after several tense moments, "are there any names you had in mind?"

She shook her head against his shoulder. "Let's just wait. We can name her after her baby shower, after she's born."

"After the birth? Honey, we need to set up the nursery…"

"NO!" she pushed him away. "No, we don't. All of this planning, it's too risky. We'll come home from the hospital to a baby shower, open up all kinds of baby gifts and…"

"And what, Gin? Set up the whole nursery that one night? We'll be too tired for that."

"We'll get a bassinet, and a changing table, a few baby sleepers, bottles and diapers… just the essentials, nothing else. No decorating, no stock piling. I just, I can't get my hopes up like that again."

"Gin, nothing is going to happen." He held her at arms' length, tilting her chin up to look him in the eye. "In eight months time, you will be holding your precious little girl in your arms, rocking her to sleep in her nursery at 3 am. I promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep. You can't control everything, Harry. What if, what if it's _not_ meant to be? What if you were right and Jaime…?"

He shook her hard, as though to shake the idea out of her head. "NO! Stop thinking like that! It's a new day, a new year, a new child. A new beginning. Come on, Gin, don't do this. Are you mad at me about the condoms? Is that it? Because I swear I never meant…"

Ginny shook her head, trying to maneuver out of his grasp. It was so strong it almost hurt. "I'm not mad at you, not really," she whispered softly. "It's not your fault the potion's only 90 something percent effective. We just got unlucky, that's all."

Harry kept quiet, not trusting himself to talk. If only she knew how wrong she was.

"I've got to meet my mother, I'm already late." She pulled away from him, walking quickly towards the fire place and disappeared in a swirl of emerald flames.


	3. Chapter 2: Suspicious Minds

Child of my Heart by Analyn100

**Chapter Two: Supsicious Minds**

"Harry!" Ginny Potter called from the base of the stairs. No answer. Where could that man be? She had checked everywhere, but when she got to the bedroom, she also go her answer. His clothes were discarded on the bed and the sound of running water could be heard from the bathroom. Of course, shower time. He had been training and if he hurried he could get cleaned up before the arrival of…well the whole Potter/Weasley clan. Tonight was the Announcement Luncheon. But before the guests arrived, Ginny had to find the potions supplies that Lily had asked to borrow.

Deciding it would be faster to just get them herself, she turned around and headed towards the basement potions lab with her mother-in-law's list in hand. The door to the lab was heavily warded – had been ever since Ginny found about she was pregnant the first time. Ginny quickly shook her head as if to dispel the bad memories. Today was a joyous occasion, not one for bitter recollections. Ginny knew all of the passwords and spells and in a matter of seconds the door glowed red and swung open on its hinges. Shutting the door quietly behind her, she walked up to the huge oak cabinets, opening its double doors. Looking at the list of ingredients, Ginny scanned the shelves, but came up empty. That was odd, Lily had said Harry had been certain he had what she needed.

She tried the summoning spell. But instead of the bottles flying into her hands, the spell hit a small drawer but nothing happened. Ginny began working furiously to break the privacy and concealment charm on it. Convinced as she was that the spells were to keep dangerous ingredients from particularly talented and troublesome Weasley children such as Freddy and Victoire, she did not suspect anything was amiss.

She opened the drawer. The vials she had been searching for soared straight into her hands. Inside she found several other vials, as well as a small scroll of parchment. Unfurling it, she saw that it was in fact a miniature calendar with several dates circled. One of them oddly enough was labeled "Healer's Apt". It was from their visit three weeks ago. The date was starred. The weeks before that were labeled "vacation". Why was Harry hiding a calendar and potion supplies?

She turned around to look at Damien's old and tattered book lying on the work bench. It was the same one that Harry had given to him for his 14th birthday. He had borrowed it last week. It was the same book with which they had discovered that Harry's butterbeer drinks had been spiked with Sedare potion. Knowing Harry, he was trying to fix her a pepper-up potion. He'd been trying to figure out how to cheer her up for days, weeks in fact…except she didn't recognize half of his ingredients.

Curious, she began to add the ingredients into the book's bowl until the list of possible potions was narrowed down to one.

Harry sat down at the magically expanded table, filled to the brim with smiling faces and full stomachs. Everyone was enjoying themselves, everyone except…He turned a worried gaze to his wife, who was deliberately avoiding his eyes. But his weren't the only ones she was avoiding. She was also avoiding her 7-year-old niece, Vicky. He knew Fleur hated it, but the name Vicky had grown on him. She would always be little Vicky to him. As for Vicky's sister, 3 year-old sister Dominique, other than the fleeting hug on arrival, Ginny hadn't even acknowledged her. He was probably just over-reacting. Seeing the girls was probably making her mind wander to the future, something she had blatantly refused to do, but until today she hadn't taken out her fear on her nieces. Freddy had taken the brunt of Ginny's post-pregnancy hormones. She couldn't even look at him without thinking of her own son.

"So, Ginny, what's the occasion?" Damien piped up, leaning over the table to get a look at the couple.

"Occasion? What makes you think there's an occasion?"

"This." His eves traveled up and down the over-burdened table. "You never cook this much, even when we're all here. At least not since…" Harry shot him a warning look. He would have preferred to squash his brother's toes- much more discreet that way - but his brother's fiancée, Annie, was in the way. He gave her an apologetic smile – more like a grimace, really – before turning back around in his chair.

Excessive cooking had been one of Ginny's pregnancy projects last time. She had been determined to learn to cook better than her mum so her child would have the same fond kitchen-related memories that she had growing-up. Of course she had fallen way short of her goal, but Harry had been tactful enough not to mention that. She had improved greatly on her cooking skills, but beating Molly Weasley was still a goal no one in the family had managed to attain. In fact, Ginny had been the only one with the guts to aspire to that level.

Damien's face froze at the look on his brother's face, and instead turned his gaze back to his plate of lasagna. "So, is this the recipe that your twin gave you?" he asked in a brave attempt to change the subject, ignoring Annie's look of bewilderment. He'd explain later.

Ginny smiled. "Yes it is. He had his twin on the phone the whole time he was trying to cook it this morning. It took three different attempts to get it right, but he finally got it. That's my Harry, never gives up on anything."

"You didn't answer my question. What is the occasion?"

"No occasion, I just thought I haven't hosted Sunday lunch in a while and I thought I needed to make up for lost time, that's all."

Harry froze in an almost comical position with his fork halfway to his mouth. He could not have heard that right. No occasion? For the last week Ginny had spoken of nothing else other than her plans to surprise the family with the announcement of their little girl's impending arrival. She had even insisted on telling everyone at once because she didn't want to do it four times like she had before. It had taken him nearly a month to convince her to tell the family, but once she had agreed to it she had spoken of nothing else. He had seen the excitement building in her, in her eyes, in her smile. He vaguely wondered where it had gone, what had happened to bring on the sudden change in mood?

He continued to eat his food in silence, taking note of Ginny's not so subtle 'don't you dare say anything' headshake.

"Oh, Harry, did you get those ingredients for me? I wanted to try to change the flavor of a few potions." His mother's voice carried down the table even though he couldn't quite see her from all the way down there.

"We don't have them." Ginny spoke up, giving Harry an oddly strained smile. "I just went down to check and I didn't see any of them down there."

"You went down to my potions lab?" His voice was even and calm, but his panic was rising.

Ginny excused herself from the table and returned carrying a large book…a very familiar large book. "Damien, here you go. I found this in the potions lab. Apparently Harry forgot to give it back."

"You're done with it, already?" Damien asked, turning to his brother as he took the book back from Ginny and stowed it under his seat.

"Well actually I…"

"Yes, he's done with it." Ginny kept her voice light and pleasant but she wasn't smiling. She looked almost tense, almost as if she was waiting for him to say something.

Harry was very good at hiding his emotions. He had to be, but he was sure the whole family could hear his heart racing. Ginny had been in his potions lab? This was bad, very bad. Well maybe not too bad, she didn't sound…well she sounded angry but not too angry. But still, his wife's unblinking stare was starting to unnerve him.

Ginny just turned back to the lasagna, shaking her head, stabbing her salad with the fork with perhaps a little too much gusto.

It was almost three in the morning, and Harry Potter had woken up for the fourth time. It had been many years since he'd had this much trouble sleeping. His mind kept spinning, something was up with Ginny. She had been distant and cross with him since the lunch with the family. The meal had ended on an ordinary note: no hugging, kissing, back-slapping or celebration of any kind.

He'd try talking to her again in the morning. He turned over towards her empty side of the bed, sighing. She had gotten out of bed, taking her pillow with her a little after midnight. Ginny choosing to sleep on the couch was never a good sign. She must really be pissed off at him for…something. He had no idea what he'd done now. Figuring he was in for another lonely night, he reached for his baby name book and took out the leaflet of parchment that was serving as his list and bookmark. Ginny still refused to look at the book herself, the most she had done was cross names off of his list, so far it had been cut in half no less than three times. He was still scanning the F section, not finding anything that caught his eye, when he heard it: a crash, it sounded like broken glass.

He hurried downstairs, taking them two a time. What he saw upon entering the kitchen, however, stopped him cold in his tracks. Whatever he had been expecting, it had not been this.

There, leaning up against the pantry, was his wife. She heard him coming and turned around. The look on her face was not warm and welcoming. It wasn't even tired or annoyed. It was angry and hard, with an edge of steel. Her eyes narrowed as they met his, filled with anger and more than a little disappointment. His alarm grew by the second as he noticed for the first time what his wife was holding in her hand.

It was a firewhiskey bottle, and it was almost empty.

Locking eyes with her husband, she brought the bottle to her lips.


	4. Chapter 3: The Road to Hell

Child of my Heart

By Analyn100

Chapter Three: Road to Hell

Author's Note: Please note I am now upgrading the rating to Mature. Oh and this chapter title is well earned. You will also be pleased to note that the long wait has resulted in the longest chapter by far, so enjoy. And review…please.

Harry Potter stood at the threshold of the kitchen, his blazing green eyes fixed unblinking at the impossible sight before him. He could not possibly be seeing his two-month pregnant wife with a bottle of firewhiskey in hand – an almost empty bottle of firewhiskey.

Something about the gleam in her eye snapped him back to reality. Those beautiful brown eyes, usually so bright and full of life, were clouded over and unfocused. Ginny wasn't just drinking. She was drunk.

She tipped the bottle back and then her head.

"Ginny, no!" In the blink of an eye, Harry wrenched the bottle out her hand. He was so angry, his breathing ragged and his heart pounding. He curled his hands into white knuckled fists, feeling the uncharacteristic desire to shake some sense into her.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he turned back to his wife. She was leaning heavily – too heavily - on the edge of the marble counter-top. "What in the name of Merlin do you think you're doing?"

"I'm havin' a drink." Her words were slurred and her head was tilted. She was blinking as though trying to keep the world in focus. "An' a baby…havin' a baby. Celebratin' the baby." She raised the bottle in a mock toast, smiling in the leering way that only drunk people could.

"Celebrating?" Harry roared. "It looks to me like you're trying to kill the kid."

Her lips curled into the ghost of a smile, the effect of which was ruined by her hiccoughing. She patted his head. "Smart lil' boy, aren't you, Harry. I knew it," she hiccoughed. "Knew you still had brains beneath that nest of hair." She was almost sneering at him, mocking him.

Unable and unwilling to look her in the eye, he walked around her towards the trash to dispose of the bottle, but a sudden sharp pain in his foot stopped him in his tracks. Harry looked down at his now bleeding feet and realized that the crunching sound was glass. He placed the nearly empty bottle in the sink, only to realize that it was not the first, but the third. A fourth bottle lay scattered in pieces on the tile floor, judging by the lack of liquid, it too had been consumed. So that was what the crashing sound was? He had been concerned about an intruder breaking past his self-designed wards. Now he wished that was the case. An intruder he could deal with…but this?

He had a thousand questions rising to the surface of his brain in quick succession, but he suppressed them all. Answers didn't matter right now – time was all that mattered. He didn't know how much of it was left before… He looked down at his bleeding feet, squeezing his eyes shut against the image that came unbidden to the forefront of his mind. Little Jaime's face, pale and blue blossomed in his mind's eye, oblivious to all else. He would not let that happen again.

He walked over to Ginny, who had collapsed in a giggling heap on the floor, thankfully several feet from the shattered glass. He reached down, gingerly pulling her to her feet. "Come on, Gin, we've got to go."

He kept a firm grip on her arm as he steered her out of the mess that had become of the kitchen. He set her down on the sitting room couch and made his way to the fireplace. Within seconds, the green flames sprang to life. Harry guided her carefully into the fireplace, mindful of her head. Hugging her close – for she showed every sign of possibly falling out onto the hearthrug – he threw down the Floo power and muttered "St. Mungos".

They disappeared in a whirlwind of colors and came to a sudden halt all too soon. He stumbled out of the fireplace and in a split second knew something was terribly wrong. The spinning had lasted for only a mere second, nor was he nauseated as was common with traveling by Floo powder. He got to his feet, reaching out to Ginny as he stood up, wiping soot from his face. His hands, met with thin air. He turned around…astonished at the sight before them. He found himself in a bare room with a small dresser and a single bed. It was their guest room, the baby's room. Something – or someone – it seemed, had cut their trip short. He looked around the room, but saw no sign of Ginny…except for one. The door was open. They had always kept the door closed, refusing to open up the door and the floodgate of memories and accompanying emotions. He raced out the door, leaning over the banister. He saw Ginny – a very tipsy Ginny – halfway down the staircase. Harry felt a chill creep up his spine. A tipsy, drunk and pregnant woman on a narrow staircase with no source of light… "Lumos maxima" he shouted, illuminating the stairwell in almost blinding light. Ginny turned around swiftly – too swiftly. She stumbled backwards.

Harry's wandless magic reflexes – honed from years of training and combat -reached out to cradle his wife catching her in mid-air, much like an invisible safety net. She stopped in mid-air, her head inches from the wooden stairs.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that she was unharmed – and not going anywhere.

He descended the staircase none too slowly, glaring down at his floating wife. Gone was the leering, giggling drunk. Something had switched in her brain, and it was not good. She looked angry – livid in fact.

This would be so much easier if he could keep her immobilized but he knew that would be counter-productive. Immobilizing a person involved slowing down such vital functions as respirations and heart beat…to an unborn child that sudden change in oxygen and blood supply could prove fatal. With no choice, he levitated his wife back into the sitting room and deposited her onto the nearest end of the couch. He then removed the spell, quickly replacing it with a leg-locker curse. He braced himself for a second round. He would have to try an alternative tactic to get her to the hospital…as soon as he thought of one.

"Ginny, what's going on?"

"You're asking me?" She let out an undignified snort and rolled her eyes. "That's rich." Her eyes still retained that glazed and unfocused look. She was looking slightly to his left, blinking her eyes rapidly.

He reached out a hand to her, but she did not take it. "I don't know what you're playing at, Gin, but we have to get to the hospital. The baby…" He swallowed, unable to finish that thought. He grabbed his wife's hand, surprised when she pulled back so fast, it was as if his touch had burned her.

"The baby!" Ginny scoffed. "That's all you care about."

Harry shook his head at her, unable to comprehend what was going on in her head. He decided to give it up as a bad job. Drunk thoughts were rarely comprehendible by anyone who was not intoxicated.

"Ginny, we need to –"

"No!" Ginny screamed, her fists curled and her eyes blazing. "I'M NOT GOING, HARRY!"

"I don't think you have a choice in the matter," he replied coolly. "I will not sit back and watch you kill our child!" He was trying to keep his temper in check, really he was…but just the thought that Ginny would take a chance at a second miscarriage was enough send his head spinning.

"No, Harry! It's you who doesn't have a choice. It's my body, my life…and I get to choose if I want to have a baby! And I don't." Her chest was heaving, her breathing erratic. "But that didn't matter to you did it? You just wanted a baby, you wanted to be a father so bad you didn't give a damn about the child's mother now, did you? Did you?"

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but found that it had gone dry and his tongue had forgotten how to form words. For the first time in his life, he was speechless. He felt his stomach twist in knots. She knew. There was no doubt about it. She knew.

"Of course you didn't," Ginny spat at him, misinterpreting his silence. "Don't give a damn about anyone but yourself, just like your 'Father'!"

Before either of them knew what was happening, before Harry even had time to contemplate his actions, he had reached out and grabbed Ginny's small wrists in an iron grasp. "That's out of line!" He growled, loosing his fragile grip on his temper.

"No 'is not!" she slurred, looking not so much at him as she was over his shoulder. "Two peas in a pod, the two of you." She seemed entirely unaffected by his narrowed and darkening eyes. "Doesn't matter how much you hurt your 'family' as long as it doesn't ruin your precious plan! Don't you get it, Harry?! I can't take this anymore! I can't loose another child!" She was crying now, sobbing, lashing out whenever he tried to offer some form of physical hated watching women cry, he never knew how to comfort them. Never knew what to say. Normally all Ginny needed from him was a hug, but even that wasn't enough anymore.

He released his grip on her, forcing himself to calm down. There was no point in getting upset over words spoken in a drunken stupor. "If you don't want to loose this child, then we need to go to the hospital." His voice was soft and subdued, watching her body language for any clue of her next move.

"You can't always get what you want, Harry." She spoke so softly, he almost didn't hear her last words. "Maybe it's better this way."

He reached out a hand to her, but curled it into a fist at the last moment. He was just itching to give her a hug, to tell her it would be okay. But he knew any comfort he offered would be rejected. He let his had fall listlessly behind the couch, his eyes transfixed on his distraught wife. "Ginny, you don't mean that." He waited for Ginny to respond, hoping she would snap out of this delusion, but she remained silent. "Ginny?" he prodded gently. "I love you. You know that, right?" He never once thought he would be nervous about asking that question, never once thought that he would leave her in any doubt. But now? Now he knew that nothing could be taken for granted – nothing was certain any longer.

The silence and tension were palpable. There was only a few inches separating them on the couch – yet it may well have been a deep chasm.

"Just stop it, Harry!" she whispered, her eyes fixed on a stain on the carpet.

"Stop what, sweetheart?"

"Stop pretending to care!" she snarled. "You make me sick."

"I'm not pretending!"

"Are too! Don't love me! Love makes babies, not lies. Gotta get rid of the lies."

She was hugging herself, rocking herself in her seat, shaking her head emphatically.

His eyes wandered around the room, finally coming to rest on one of the many pictures scattered around the fireplace. It was the more recent of several portraits scattered throughout the house. Ever since his reunion with his family, his mother had insisted on a yearly Christmas portrait to 'make up for lost time'. It had been taken during the pregnancy with Jaime. His picture-self waved to the audience, beaming with happiness that he had never known before and had not known since.

The picture next to it was one of him and Ginny on the same day. The picture was a close-up, hiding Ginny's pregnant belly from view, but the radiant joy lit up her whole face. It was impossible to miss. He looked over at his wife hunched over in her chair, twisting her body to and fro as if she could break the leg-locker curse. She was desperate to get away from him, but not nearly as desperate as he was to hold onto his dream. He had half a mind to release her feet and apparate her out of the house, side-a-long style, but stopped himself. He did not know what she would do if the restraint was removed. He preferred to keep it that way. Not to mention the risk of Splinching the placenta during apparation, the resulting placental abruption could cause hemorrhaging and swift death to both mother and child. Nothing was worth that risk. He leaned over to give her a quick peck on the check, before she had a chance to pull away. He calmly walked out the front door and down the porch steps into the chilly morning air.

Thinking of a beautiful baby smile amidst pink blankets, he softly muttered the spell "Expecto Patronum." The great snake slithered out of his wand. He gave the patronus-Nagini the message to take to the hospital. He watched the silvery serpent disappear into the night. Once all trace of the creature was gone, he turned to go back into the house, wondering how his perfect plan had gone so horribly wrong.

James Potter ran through the doors of St. Mungo's hospital, tripping over his own feet in his haste.

"Level Four, maternity care." The young witch at the desk hadn't even needed to consult her files or ask his name.

"Maternity? Are you sure? I got a letter that my son was here."

"His wife was the one admitted. He's in the waiting room."

"But this letter… it says," James pulled it out of his bathrobe pocket. He hadn't even bothered to get dressed properly.

"At the bottom, sir."

His eyes scanned the letter yet again, this time reading it in its entirety,

_To Mr. James Potter_

_Your presence is requested at St. Mungo's Hospital regarding your son, stat._ That was all he head read before,

_His wife, Ginevra, was admitted to our maternity ward's urgent care unit at 3:17 this morning. He is currently awaiting your arrival in Family's Room Number 2, which is located in the main waiting area of our ward. _

_Hoping to see you stat,_

_Matilda Hofstadter, Head Nurse Coordinator of Maternity Care_

Ginny was pregnant? Growing more perplexed, wondering why the family hadn't been told, he hurried down the halls and up to the lift. The doors opened on the fourth floor, right at the waiting room. There, in the far corner, lined next to various offices was a sign on one of the doors labeled Family's Room # 2, the curtains were drawn and the sign on the door was switched to 'occupied'.

He had to get a nurse to let him in. She unlocked the door – why had it even been locked in the first place? – and walked inside. Harry was sitting with his head in his hands, staring at the floor. His head jerked up at the sound of the door, his jaw set and his eyes blackened. He was wearing his black plaid flannel pajamas and black socks. Apparently he wasn't the only one who hadn't bothered with proper attire.

"The Healer will be with you soon." Without another word, she shut the door in her hurry to get out.

"Well, welcome to the Family's Room," Harry said sarcastically, spreading his arms to indicate the rather large room. Although they were the sole occupants, the room was large enough and equipped with enough tables, sofas and chairs to make several families comfortable. It was decorated in soft colors and floral patterns, apparently in attempt to give the room a calming sort of atmosphere. "The room where families of the most critically ill patients are kept waiting on pins and needles where they won't make a scene. Or as is my case, the place where they drag your body after security nails you with an injection of…well whatever that stuff was."

"They sedated you?" He wasn't sure why he was surprised. Given that the last time Harry had been here, he had been about to kill the surgeon with his bare hands, it was a wonder they hadn't nailed him with one sooner.

"There wasn't any family here to restrain me, so they drugged me up until they could find someone. So that's where you come in." He sounded almost…perky. It had to be the drugs, Damien was the one who got all perky on people at the wrong times. Not to mention, he had never seen Harry's blackened eyes so glazed over and wide. Yes, it had to be the drugs.

"So it's bad news, then?" It couldn't be. Harry wouldn't be this calm if that was the case, drugs or no drugs.

Harry shook his head. "I don't know. No one will tell me. I'm not sure if they just don't know or if they didn't want to tell me until you came."

"How long were you out?"

"Not long, maybe half an hour."

"Why didn't you tell the family?"

Harry sighed, pacing around the room in circles. "We were going to, today actually. That's what the dinner was for. But Ginny, she backed out."

At that moment, the doors opened again and in came not one but two Healers. The second man stayed in the corner, making no move to approach the anxious husband. It was apparent to James what was going on here. One Healer would do the talking; the other would summon security if the situation called for it.

"My baby, my daughter? Is she okay?"

"They are both doing well. We've given your wife a potion so that the alcohol will be filtered through the blood not only by the liver – as is natural – but also through the kidneys…"

"Wait, wait, wait," James threw up his hands to stop them. "Alcohol? Ginny drank while pregnant? What's going on?"

"Yes," the Healer answered him, when it was clear that Harry would not. "Your son informed us on arrival that he had found his wife around three am in the kitchen with several alcohol bottles on the table. We've given her IV fluids to speed up the detox process. The human body has two kidneys so we're spreading the job between three organs instead of one, thereby eliminating the alcohol from her blood at a much faster rate, reducing the baby's exposure to the toxins. Mrs. Potter's urine tests show a large amount of alcohol, indicating that the potion is doing its job. We will continue to monitor her liver and kidney functions as well as the alcohol level over the next several hours. The fetal heart rate is steady." He turned back to Harry placing a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. At the anxious husband's incredulous look, he immediately retracted it. "You're very lucky, Mr. Potter, that you woke up at that hour to find her. You got her to us in good time. Women often drink during pregnancy, especially in the early months when they may not know about the pregnancy. Most women drink maybe a few glasses of alcohol at a time at the most. Even that small amount is risky to the unborn child. But by your own words, she drank four entire bottles of firewhiskey in a very short amount of time."

"Maybe more," Harry interrupted, "I counted four. I didn't even look in the trash."

"At least four whole bottles, then. That indicates an attempt at unassisted abortion. You are very fortunate to have caught her at the time you did. But I must warn you. You need to keep a close eye on her. This decision it seems was unplanned and impulsive. Should she choose to attempt unassisted abortion again, I cannot guarantee that you would be as fortunate a second time. She may opt instead to seek the professional assistance of a Family Planning Service rather than risk being caught a second time."

"What difference would that make? It's not as if I would sign their consent forms," Harry scoffed. Not even the Imperius Curse could persuade him to sign those wretched documents.

"Mr. Potter, it is not your signature that would be required, only your wife's."

Harry turned an incredulous glare at the Healer, who recoiled in his seat. "Are you telling me that my wife can walk into a clinic and have my unborn child KILLED without my consent?"

"The moral ethics regarding the situation may be ambiguous at best, but the law is crystal clear. While the child shares a body with its mother, it is the mother who makes all decisions regarding the pregnancy: including the option to terminate. If she chose to seek professional assistance in ending the pregnancy prior to the third trimester, she would encounter no opposition. The mother is given information on the procedure and is required to wait at least a week from the time of the initial consultation in order to give her time to reflect on her options. If she wishes to proceed after that waiting period, then they would give it to her. No questions asked."

"And you're saying that there is nothing I can do about this?" To someone who was accustomed to giving orders and staying 10 steps ahead of the competition, this was unacceptable.

The Healer hesitated, studying his intertwined figures, appearing to choose his next words with extreme caution. "There is only one way in which an abortion clinic would be banned from performing the procedure."

Now they were getting somewhere. "Go on."

"If a patient's ability to care for themselves – either in a mental or physical capacity – were to be compromised, then a family member can be granted Power of Attorney, which means that person would have to cosign for any medical procedures – including abortion. The Ministry's Department of Health keeps a list of adults under Power of Attorney. If she registered for an abortion without the family member present, she would be turned away."

"What would I have to do to gain this…power."

The Healer hesitated, noting the over-eagerness for said 'power'. He bit his lip and paused for a moment. "We can not just assign Power of Attorney based on the family's wishes. There has to be a clinical justification for such a measure."

"Such as unassisted abortion by liquor?"

"No, that is not enough. We would need to evaluate her for signs of mental illness."

"You're saying my wife is a nutjob?" There was no argument in his voice, there was more curiosity than anything else.

"I'm saying that I don't want to see your family suffer another loss and that's a very real possibility if we don't find out why she made such a bold attempt in the first place."

Harry nodded. "Okay, whatever it takes. I'll do whatever it takes to protect my daughter."

"If you wish to proceed, then we will require your signature to hold her on a 51-50."

"A what?"

"A 51-50 is a term for a 72-hour psychiatric hold. It is normally reserved for those who are considered a danger to themselves as well as society. But since we don't consider Mrs. Potter to be a public threat, per se, we would need a member of her family to authorize the hold. Instead of discharging her, she would be released to the psych ward in the building next door. Once there, we would have 72 hours to evaluate her mental state. If she is determined to suffer from a mental illness then she would be admitted to the psychiatric ward. At that time, Power of Attorney would be given to you and no procedure – save emergency measures – would be permitted without your consent. Are you agreeable to this?"

Harry nodded. "Just tell me where to sign."

"Very well, I will assemble the necessary paperwork and keep you updated on her status. Would you like to see your wife? She's asleep, sedated actually. She will likely remain so for several more hours. The sedative was a mild one given her condition, but necessary to get her blood pressure down to a safe level."

Harry nodded. "I'll go."

He followed the Healers down the corridor to a room with a sign reading "427. Bed A: G. Potter." The second slot for bed B, was blank. They were alone then. Good. The curtains to the room were opened, but the one surrounding his wife's bed was pulled, shielding her from view. He opened the door quietly and stepped inside, leaving his dad and two security guards to wait outside, pulling the cord on the curtains for privacy as he entered. Shrouding the room in an almost eerie darkness, he crept foreword, careful not to wake her up. He didn't think she would, but he had no idea how strong the sedative was. His obviously had not been that strong.

He sat down at the edge of her bed – she didn't even stir. He pulled back the covers and hospital gown to reveal the beautiful swell of her baby belly. It wasn't large yet, barely even visible. He stroked her soft skin, his eyes on the monitor strapped across her belly, at the small lines zipping across it. It was the fetal heart monitor and it was still going. He let out a long deep breath, one he hadn't even known he'd been holding. He replaced the covers, feeling as though a large weight had fallen off of his shoulders. He turned his attention to his beautiful wife, as she lay on the crisp white blankets. She was still, unnaturally so. She was a noisy sleeper, tossing and turning, but not today. He took her hand in his, stroking her cheek, wiping away the few tears that remained.

"Why, Ginny, why are doing this to me?" She didn't answer, not that he had expected it. Harry reached out to the bedside table for a blank scroll of parchment and a pen – apparently the hospital staff didn't want their equipment to be smeared with ink.

Dear Ginny,

I'll be back soon, we'll talk then. I love you. Take care of our daughter while I'm gone.

Your Loving Husband,

Harry

He tore off the piece of parchment and stuck it under the bedside lamp. He leaned over to kiss her cheek. He left the room after only a few minutes, striding down the hospital corridor at a brisk pace, his father on his heels. The father and son walked out of the hospital together, not saying a word, not knowing what to say until Harry broke the silence. "I don't know about you, Dad, but I'm hungry."

James clapped a hand on his back. "Lead the way, son."

"You did what?" James Potter ran a hand through his hair, laying his fork down next to his plate of long-forgotten French toast and hash browns. "Harry, tell me you didn't," James pleaded with his son.

Harry kept his eyes on his plate, at his half-eaten omelet and sausages. Going to a diner to talk had been a departure from tradition, which usually included a pub and several rounds of alcohol but Harry wanted no part in alcohol at the moment. It was the one thing that had almost taken his child away, the one thing that could still take her away. Until Ginny's blood tests were clean, there was still that chance.

When Harry didn't answer, James just sighed. "I told you! I told you, Harry…don't you remember?"

"Yeah, yeah," Harry muttered. "Post pregnancy hormones equal nightmares. Don't force her. I did that, Dad. I was patient. She said she was ready…"

"For the intimacy with her husband, not for a child."

"Yeah, well she didn't quite phrase it that way. She said she was ready for sex again. I thought that meant she was ready to try for another child again. I just, you said a child would make everything better, help us move on. I wanted that, I wanted that happiness for her, that healing. That's all. I never meant to hurt her."

"When you're both ready, that's what I said, Harry. Why would you think that she would be ready for a child if she insisted on the potion?"

"I don't know. I just saw the way she had that longing look in her eye when she saw babies with their mums. I wanted to give her that. I wanted her to be happy. I was sure she would be all excited again after she found out she was pregnant. Is this why you warned me, Dad? Did you know…?"

"No. Not entirely."

"Dad….!" Harry growled. He hated when people beat around the bush.

"An Auror's job is not all about fighting dark wizards and vampires…"

"You mean you guys actually worked when Voldemort wasn't wrecking havoc?" The smallest hint of an amused smile graced his son's handsome face. "Could have fooled me."

"Yes, Aurors actually do work," he quipped back before getting back to the serious talk. "Our calls also included domestic disputes. I didn't want to scare you, but…maybe I should have. Did the Healer give you any recommendations?"

Harry nodded. "He gave me a script to see a Mind Healer. Why the Hell would I need to see one of those nutjobs? I'm not the one who attempted to induce a miscarriage."

"Take it, son. I know you've fought the idea of seeing a Mind Healer before, but you need to go. You need help, and it's like Draco said, 'If you can't help yourself, then you won't be able to help her.' I could help you after Jaime's loss because I had been through that. But this is out of my league. I'm flying blind here, we all are. You need advice from someone who knows what's going on. If you don't, if you assume she'll get over this phase, you're wrong. It'll get worse before it gets better. Husbands and wives need to trust each other, and you just ruined that trust by violating your wife. What you did was worse than rape!"

"Rape?!" Harry was fuming, fisting his hands, visibly trying to restrain his temper. "Rape? I would never! I would never hurt her like that!"

"But you did!" James cut across.

"I don't need to listen to this shit!" Harry stormed out of the restaurant, his blood boiling as he apparrated to his home. He slammed the doors shut as he went from room to room before arriving in the kitchen…in the room where he had seen it all happen. The bottles were still strewn across the floor. He could still see her, leaning against the countertop, taunting him with a mock toast and the empty bottle. He couldn't for the life of him understand what had driven her to that point of madness. The only thing he knew for certain was that he had NOT raped her. His dad was mental – they both were. That was a heinous thing to do to a woman. He had done many things that he wasn't proud of in his life, but rape was not on the list. It never would be. He wasn't that kind of man.

"Harry," his dad's voice sounded from across the house.

"Leave me alone!" he shouted. His dad walked in just moments later. "How dare you?!" Harry yelled, fisting his hands so hard he was sure to draw blood. "How dare you accuse me of something so… so…" He struggled to come up with a word to describe the accusation, but nothing could. How could his dad think whatever he thought? Damned drugs were messing with his mind. "Get out! Just get out of my house!" He turned to leave the room. He didn't have the time or patience to deal with his dad at the moment, but James had other ideas.

He grabbed Harry by the arm, pushing him up against the wall, pinning his arms to his side. Any other man would have been blasted out of the house but Harry wouldn't do that to him, no matter how angry he got. And James knew it.

"Look, Dad, I know I messed up, but it's not like…"

"Messed up?" James roared. "You didn't 'mess up'. Someone who messes up, makes a mistake. You did this intentionally. You didn't 'mess up' you screwed up. You royally screwed up. You listen to me, Harry James Potter, and you listen good! Rape isn't all about the physical. It's mental as well. It's a heinous crime for a man to break into a woman's home and force himself on her, refusing to stop when she begs. A man who does that is a selfish son-of-a-bitch, who cares for nothing but his own desires. He uses her, violates her. But when he leaves, the woman has family to turn to, people who love her – like her husband. But what happens when that man IS her husband? What happens when she can no longer trust the person who should be her greatest source of comfort and protection? A husband and wife swear an oath to honor, love, and cherish each other. You did not honor her wishes, you went behind her back, you lied to her. You gave her an unwanted child… just- like- a - rapist." James kept his grip on Harry's arms, refusing to let go. He was expecting his son to fight back at any moment. He was bracing himself for the fight. But the fight never came. Instead, Harry's shoulders began shaking, his eyes were welling up.

Harry stopped trying to push his dad aside as the words kept swimming around in his brain, almost a mirror image of the words Ginny had spoken to him in her drunken stupor just hours before: 'Don't give a damn about anyone but yourself, just like your 'Father'! Doesn't matter how much you hurt your 'family' as long as it doesn't ruin your precious plan! ' He had lied to her. He had deceived her for his own purpose. He had used her for his own agenda. Just like Voldemort, just like the man he had loved and trusted as a father. "Oh my god what have I done?"

He was shaking, trembling, the tears falling from his eyes, unchecked. "Let me go! Just let me go!" Harry started fighting him, but it was only half-hearted. "I don't deserve…just leave me alone."

"No. I'm not leaving, Harry." He reached out to put a hand on his son's shoulder. "Son?"

But Harry shrugged away from him. "Don't touch me!" He raised his hands to his face, hiding his tears and his pain. "I don't deserve it."

"What don't you deserve?"

"This…just, just hit me!"

"What?"

"Hit me!"

"I'm not going to hit you, why would I?"

"Because, because I deserve it…I'm just like him. Just like my father."

James just froze at that word. Harry hadn't called Voldemort his father in so many years.

Harry put his hands down, shaking his head, taking in his dad's shell-shocked look. "I'm sorry, Dad. It's just, the lies, the deception, that's how I grew up. That's how he raised me. I know you want to believe I'm not like him, but…but he's part of me. No matter how much I try to change that: like Father, like Son."

James reached out to his son. Harry started to push him away, but James caught his hands and held onto them, refusing to let go. "You are NOT like him, Harry. Don't you ever say that again! You hear me? I am never to hear you say that again!" He took several deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down. "Look at me, Harry," he ordered, much more gently this time. Harry slowly looked up, bracing himself for he storm he knew he deserved. "The very fact that you're repulsed by this is enough to show you're not like him."

"You really think so?" James couldn't help but notice the cautious hope in his son's voice.

"I know so. With Voldemort, he took you for his own purpose, that's how it was from the beginning. I really do think that he cared for you, grew fond and proud of you over the years. But with a true parent it's more than that. A parent's love is unconditional, that wasn't the case for him. When he found out that you destroyed his horcruxes, his anger and desire for revenge dominated any affection that he may have felt. A true father would never be able sit back and watch his son under the Torture Curse. Your love for Ginny is genuine and your only desire has been for her happiness. That's something that Voldemort could never say."

Harry just leaned his head back against the cabinet. He didn't have the energy to argue with his dad right now. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I shouldn't have called him that, it just slipped out."

"It's okay."

Harry looked over at his dad. He could see the pain in those downcast eyes. He was biting his lips, as if to stop himself from saying something. "No, its not."

"Okay, you're right. It's not. Let's just forget about it. I'm willing to blame it on the drugs if you are. Though if you ever say that when you're not runk or drugged, then I may just have to knock some sense into that thick skull of yours."

"I don't know, my skull's pretty think… you think you can manage that?"

"A few well chosen Weasley Joke products and some Marauder ingenuity? Oh please, you won't stand a chance."

James had been going for a bit of humor, but Harry just groaned. "Oh shit."

"What now?"

"They're gonna kill me. Her brothers, they're gonna kill me."

"No they won't."

"Of course they will. Maybe if I'm lucky Charlie will just feed me to his dragons…that'll be nice and quick."

"No one's going to feed you to any dragons…at least not if you don't tell them."

"You think I shouldn't tell her family? You think she won't tell them?"

"No, I think you shouldn't tell her brothers. Talk to Arthur."

"Her father? What makes you think he won't rip me to shreds? Not that I don't deserve it…"

"Arthur is more rational than his wife and less impulsive than his sons and less prone to violence. He'll hear you out. What he does after that is anyone's guess. But he is the head of the family. Let him decide how much of this his sons need to know."

"And I assume you're going to tell mum." There was a note of resignation beneath the exhaustion.

James nodded. "Of course, unlike you I'm not about to keep this kind of a secret from my wife. Oh crap, your mother." James hit himself on the head, looking at his watch. "The hospital sent me a notification, I dropped the envelope on the floor. It's almost 7:00. Your mother's an early riser, she's probably freaking out right about now. Okay, look. Just try to get some sleep. I'll be back later today, and we'll…we'll figure out something. Okay? I'll explain to your mum, maybe she can stay with Ginny until her parents find out." He gave his son a hug, ending it all too soon. He hated to leave him like this, but Lily was going to skin him alive if he let her worry another minute. "I'll be back, just try to get some sleep and don't go anywhere. I mean that, Harry. No leaving this house until I come back."

Harry nodded as he followed his dad out of the kitchen, heading up the stairs to his bedroom, wondering how in the world he was going to fix this, if it even could be fixed. He had been fighting the effects of the sedation ever since he had woken up, but no more. He climbed onto the bed, still in his nightclothes. He didn't even bother with the covers. He was asleep within seconds.

~ To be Continued ~

Next Chapter: Family Ties: Includes hospital visits and Harry's talk with Arthur.

Please, please review. I've been rewriting this chapter for the last two months to get it right. And I apologize to any Europeans who may be confused by the medical and legal aspects of this chapter. I'm American, my sister and I both work in different aspects of Healthcare so I'm basing this off of American laws and protocol even though I know the books are British. In the US (crazy as it may seem to some) a woman (regardless of age) has the sole discretion in terms of abortion. The woman's parents and the father of the child often learn of abortion after the fact. I know this is a sensitive topic for some people, but I took Harry's pro-Life stance from the fact that he disobeyed his 'father' in order to save an unborn Nigel.

So, anyway, please review…I'm very anxious for reviews.


	5. Chapter 4: Family Ties

Child of Mine by Analyn100

Chapter Four: Family Ties

The sunlight streamed in through the curtains, bathing Harry Potter's face in unappreciated light. Squinting against the glare, he groped around for a pillow and pressed it to his face. He was by no means a lazy person, but at that moment he wanted nothing more than to forget about the reason why he was lying by himself on top of his covers at the late hour of 10 am. He groaned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as the night came back to him in a whirlwind of memories. Much as he loathed the curse, an obliviate spell would almost be welcome in his current state of mind. It was perhaps the only way to get the image of his drunken wife out of his head.

He stumbled his way through his morning routine and finally emerged from the bedroom, towel-drying his wet hair as he made his way downstairs. He was almost surprised to see his dad passed out of the couch in a most uncomfortable position.

He made his way into the kitchen, expecting to see evidence of the chaos from the night before, but it was all gone. He would have to thank his dad for the clean-up job later. He reached into the pantry and pulled out a container of oatmeal. He was pouring a large helping into a bowl and filling it with water when his dad sauntered into the kitchen to join him. His dad was wearing his casual robes, which were only slightly more presentable than the pajamas he had been out in the night before.

James watched his son heat up the oatmeal bowl with his wand, shaking his head in amusement as he searched the pantry for something more appetizing. Harry may have grown some skills in the cooking department to surprise Ginny with romantic candlelight dinners, but breakfast food he had never bothered to learn. Grabbing himself some bagels and orange juice, he sat down at the table, waiting for his son to join him. Said son, it appeared, was taking his time looking for something to put on his oatmeal. Or perhaps he was just stalling. He had after all looked in the same cupboard three times already.

James waited until Harry gave up the search and begrudgingly started eating his now soggy oatmeal. Apparently James had overestimated Harry's breakfast cooking skills, judging by the look of repulsion on his son's face as he forced himself to swallow the concoction.

"Two breakfasts in one morning," Harry joked in an attempt to break the silence. "Must be a record."

James said nothing, waiting for Harry to get around to the topic that they both knew needed to be addressed – as if they hadn't talked about it enough the night before.

"So…." Harry began, playing with his spoon in a most absent-minded and uncharacteristic manner. "I take it you told mum." He grimaced.

James gulped down his orange juice, licking his lips. "Yes. She knows, she left to visit Ginny." He regarded his son's careworn look and downcast eyes. He looked like he'd been through Hell and back, which wasn't really far from the truth. He wasn't even certain that Harry had slept much at all the night before. He, himself, had managed to get an amazing 2 hours after coming back over to check on his son at 8 am, fearful of what an angry and irate Harry could be getting up to in his state of mind. He had been pleasantly surprised to arrive to find the house quiet, a quick "point-me-spell" confirming that his son was indeed home and not out wrecking havoc on some foe – real or imagined.

"Have you thought about what you're going to tell Arthur?"

"It's not the 'what' it's the 'how' that's bothering me."

"I could go over first if you like, make sure there's no company. I'm sure I can come up with some false pretence for showing up."

"You're not going to be there when I tell him, are you?" Harry had sense of panic in the pit of his stomach. This was going to be hard enough without an audience.

James shook his head emphatically. "I'll summon you by protean charm when I'm about to leave. I just want to make sure there are no Weasley boys around who might overhear and rip your head off. I like my kids in one piece. We'll give it a couple of hours, I have no idea how early a riser Mr. Weasley is on his days off."

"Dad, it's after 10, I'm sure he's up by now." Harry just wanted to get this over with, waiting was the worst part. "Just because we were up until 6 am doesn't mean that he was."

"Yes but you need to wake up before talking to Arthur about this, it wouldn't do for you to loose your temper at him due to your lack of sleep."

"Dad…seriously? Sleepless nights are not new to me. I'll be fine. And I'd never argue with Ginny's family. Not after…" He cut his thoughts short. Then, just for something to do, he turned his back on his dad. He walked over to the sink and dumped the contents of his ruined oatmeal down the sink, refusing to meet his dad's sympathetic eyes.

James felt bad for even bringing it up. The unspoken words "Jaime's death" hung between them. Harry would be fine – or at least he would keep his temper in check. He wouldn't risk upsetting Ginny further, not with how precarious the situation was. He was smart enough to know that he was on thin ice, one small misstep and...Not wanting to contemplate the possible end of that sentence, James grabbed two spoons from the kitchen table and waved his wand over both them, applying the Protean charm. "Leave this spoon here, when it starts glowing then its safe to come over." He stowed the second one in his pocket and took his leave.

It was another 15 minutes before the spoon began to glow a violent shade of aqua. Feeling a knot tighten in his stomach, Harry apparated to the lane leading to the Burrow. He had come up this lane so many times in the past, but never before had he felt quite so nervous. The only other time he had felt even close to this level of nervousness was when he had come to ask for Ginny's hand. That had been a happy almost jittery type of nervous…this was just plain dread. He looked up to see his dad coming back down the lane. James tried to give his son a smile of reassurance, but it felt more like a grimace.

Harry just kept walking, hands stiffly in his pockets, his eyes firmly on the ground and averted from his dad's. Harry knocked on the door after a moment's hesitation.

Mrs. Weasley answered, still wearing her soiled cooking apron. "Harry, dear, won't you come in. You just missed your dad." She sounded pleasantly surprised to see him. Well that wouldn't last very long.

"Oh really? What a coincidence."

"Have a seat, I've got some nice breakfast biscuits that just came out of the oven. Help yourself."

"Actually, I need to talk to Arthur."

"Of course, dear." She sat him down in one of the chairs and sent several trays of food flying his way, the biscuits were just one of several dishes. "He's upstairs."

"Great, I'll just…"

"Don't be ridiculous, eat." She put a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to sit down, much to his annoyance. "I have so much food I don't know what to do with it. So, what's new?"

"Well, you see, it's Ginny. She's…she's pregnant."

He waited for the expected explosion of feminine shrieking, but what he got was shocked silence.

"I'm sorry? Did you say…?"

"Pregnant. Yes. We're expecting a baby girl. She's about two months along."

"A granddaughter?" It was Arthur's voice this time.

Harry looked up to see Arthur standing in the doorway. His parents-in-law were both giving him twisted looks of bewilderment that would have been comical at any other time.

"That's not… I was asking Ginny about the topic of children just last week. She didn't mention…"

"We were planning on making the announcement yesterday, but that didn't go according to plan." He looked up at his father-in-law. "We need to talk. Privately."

"Alright, out the shed we go. I'll take this." He loaded up a tray of biscuits and coffee and motioned for Harry to follow him, leaving a very confused Molly Weasely behind.

When they got to the shed, he put the tray down, somehow finding room on his cluttered workbench. He picked up a biscuit and coffee mug, "So what's my little girl done now?"

"Sorry? I don't follow..."

"Hormones, son. I'm assuming you're here to ask advice about a fight you two got into. Whatever she said, she probably didn't mean it. So let's hear it."

_Here goes nothing_. "It wasn't like that. It's...I'm afraid this is all my fault."

"Of course it is," Arthur gave him an overly-friendly slap on the back, grinning from ear to ear. "It takes two, it's always the husband's fault."

Harry felt himself blushing. "No, it's not that. Your daughter, I had to take her to the hospital last night."

Charlie Weasley made his way around the Burrow, whistling a tune the words of which he had long forgotten. He was just thinking about plans to utilize the muggle contraption that was currently slung over his shoulder, when he made his way to the front lane and of course his dad's favorite shed. He just had one more thing to pick up from his father. But the sound of raised voices stopped him in his tracks, the whistling stopping in mid-tune. He'd know that voice anywhere. It was the unmistakable sound of his one and only brother-in-law's voice

"-when I visited. My mother is with her at the hospital. I'm sure she will want to see you when she wakes up. Look, Arthur, I just want you to know that I…"

"I gave you my heart and soul! I trusted you to keep your word, that you would put her first and you…" Charlie winced. Only those in the gravest of trouble with his dad got THAT tone. It was the tone that made you wish he would yell at you

"I never meant to hurt her." Harry's voice was so soft, so unlike the powerful and confident man that Charlie had come to reluctantly respect that Charlie almost didn't believe it was him.

"I said, leave!" Arthur's words were punctured by a high-pitched whining sound. It was a power drill.

Charlie Weasley slipped behind the shed, watching as Harry Potter's slightly hunched form retreated from view and then disappeared from it entirely.

As Charlie Weasley stormed through the halls of the hospital, the staff and fellow visitors could not look more terrified of him even if he were to half transfigure himself a dragon's head. If that rat-bastard son of a monster had hurt his sister, there would be Hell to pay. He entered the Lift alone and attempted to calm his breathing, there would be no point in scaring his baby sister if this was all a misunderstanding. Husbands and wives fought all of the time, perhaps his dad hadn't let Harry finish. Perhaps there was more to this story than what it appeared to be – there had to be. He may not like his brother-in-law at all, but even he had to admit that Potter was devoted to her and protected her at all costs. It was for that reason alone that Potter was getting the benefit of the doubt. Forcing his face into what he hoped was a neutral expression, he stepped off of the Lift to Level Four and a sign reading "Maternity Ward".

"Maternity?" He stood gaping at the sign in disbelief, his feet automatically carrying him down the Hall until he stood silently outside the door to room 427. He traced his sister's name by the door, his mind running at a 100 miles a minute. She was pregnant? He had seen her just yesterday and she hadn't look pregnant at all. But the shock and confusion soon gave way to fury. He could feel the blood boiling in his veins, his heart racing as the implications began to sink in. Potter had hurt his sister – his pregnant sister!

Charlie slipped inside the room, standing just behind the drawn privacy curtain and sank into a chair, his head in his hands in attempt to calm his raging temper. Getting pregnant women worked up was never a good idea – he'd been around enough of them to know that.

"Charlie, you can come in." Ginny's rasping voice called out in resignation. "Come on, I know it's you." Warily, Charlie got to his feet, pushing the curtain aside. "I'm okay, Charlie." Ginny tried to offer him a smile of reassurance, but it fell short of her eyes. Her voice was raspy and her eyes were wet and bloodshot, her matted ginger hair hung precariously from her pony tail. She looked as far from fine as it was possible to be. His eyes darted from his sister to her mother-in-law sitting in the chair by her bed. "I think I'll go to the cafeteria for a few minutes." Lily excused herself to give the brother and sister some privacy.

"No, you're not." Charlie said as soon as the door closed behind Lily. It was a statement, not an argument.

"Okay, I'm not. I just don't want to talk about it." Charlie sighed, Potter could wait, his sister needed him right now. He sat down in the seat Lily had vacated beside her bed. "So you must be excited. Do you know if it's a boy or girl? Have you told Harry he's going to be a dad?" If the pregnancy was discovered at the hospital then that would make Harry's 'crime' that much less severe

The tears began in earnest, Ginny covered her face but couldn't muffle the sound of her sobbing. She shook her head as Charlie tried to pry her hands off of her face. "Ginny? Ginny, what's-" He stopped mid-sentence staring down at her arm. For the first time he saw the bruise above the wrist on her non-IV hand, the finger marks were impossible to miss.

"Harry knows!" Ginny's voice was hard. "He did this to me, the bastard." Her white-knuckled hands looked ready for a fight. Normally Charlie would be running to stop her from hexing something or someone, but Ginny didn't have the strength today and they both knew it. Her hands fell listlessly to her side. "I hate him," she whispered. "I hate him for doing…THIS to me!"

"No, you don't." Charlie stared at her, aghast, wondering what had come over her. "You love kids, you've always wanted to be a mother."

Ginny tried unsuccessfully to wipe away her tears. "I don't, Charlie. I don't want it."

Charlie reached over, caressing her cheek, wiping away the tears with his thumb. He was about to argue the point but thought better of it. Bringing up Jamie was a sure-fire way to get her upset. "If you're not ready for kids you should have told him."

"I did." Ginny's voice broke.

Ginny held his gaze and let the implications sink in. "Oh God…tell me he didn't." He waited, gave his sister a chance to explain, to defend her husband but she offered none. "Ginny?"

"I told him but he didn't listen! He didn't care."

"He forced himself on you?" Charlie whispered, hoping he was wrong. A perverted son of a bitch Potter may be, but even he knew how to treat a lady.

"I didn't want a baby, but he did. That was all that mattered. He wants to replace…I just, I can't, Charlie. I can't take this."

Charlie reached an arm out to her, drawing her into his embrace. Hot tears rolled down his shirt as he rocked his baby sister in his arms. Potter was going to pay.

As Harry Potter opened the hospital room door for his parents-in-law, he was expecting to meet the disapproving glare of his mother. What he got, was his wife sobbing in the arms of her brother. Harry kept his face passive, cringing inwardly at the sight. He'd have to give his dad a piece of his mind – obviously he hadn't searched the Burrow properly before summoning him. There was no other explanation for Charlie's knowledge of Ginny's hospitalization.

"Harry's here," Charlie whispered in her ear. "Do want him to stay?"

Ginny shook her head against her brother's shoulder.

Throwing caution to the wind, Harry walked around to the other side of the bed. He was about to take hold of a hand draped around her brother's neck, but stopped himself when he saw the hand-print bruise encompassing most of her lower arm. He settled for putting a hand on her back. He rubbed gentle circles just beneath her shoulders. That always helped. "Ginny?"

"Go away!"

"Ginny, look at me, please."

Without taking her arms off of Charlie's shoulder, she turned to face him. He had been hoping that the detox had done her some good, that rest and a morning of reflection with his mother would have made her see reason. One look into those hollow brown eyes told him otherwise.

"I know you're mad at me, I get it. You have every right to be…."

"Potter!" Charlie's voice growled from above him. "You heard the lady."

Harry looked around, noticing not one set of sympathetic eyes, not even on the face of his own mother who was now standing next to Mrs. Weasley, a breakfast tray in hand.

"I'll be back in a couple of days, Ginny." It pained him to think about it, but in the next few hours they were going to take her to psych. It would be a full 72 hours of cooling down and thinking things over. Perhaps it would do them both a bit of good, some time to clear the air as it were. "I love you."

Ginny's glare never wavered. With one last kiss to her cheek, Harry got up and left the room.

Harry left the hospital amid stares and whispers, which he promptly ignored. The only staring person he cared about was the one boring holes into his head. He could feel Charlie's breath on his neck, making Harry realize he had broken the most important rule of combat: never show your back to the enemy.

Harry quickened his pace, determined to put some distance between himself and Charlie. He had to get away from him before a fight broke out. It wasn't that he was afraid of Charlie, not in the least. He hadn't been in a duel for years but he could still beat the shit out of anyone, and that was the problem. For once he didn't want to beat the shit out of anyone, especially not in an area surrounded by babies and pregnant women. There was no worse place for a duel of any kind. He had to keep a cool head and for that he had to get away, far away.

Harry hurried ahead to the Lift as it closed and slipped in just in time to leave Charlie behind, fuming. Harry breathed a loud sigh of relief, leaning back against the railing behind him. Disaster avoided.

Harry stepped out of the Lift the moment it opened and practically ran towards the apparition point. He was almost there when he felt something graze his shoulder. Harry recognized the impact of a weak wandless spell in heartbeat. He turned around just as fast to find Charlie Weasley's fist inches from his face. In one swift motion, he grabbed the arm in a bone crushing grip.

"Not now!" Harry hissed as medics with a levitated gurney made their way around them. "We'll talk later!"

"I don't think so!" With his free wand hand, Charlie pointed his wand at his shirt. "Portus!"

The shirt sleeve that Harry was clutching began to glow blue. Harry felt a tug at the navel and swore as he disappeared.

The next thing Harry knew was a blinding pain in his head. He slowly opened his eyes to find Charlie standing over him and his face on top of an overturned table and an obnoxiously loud and familiar voice.

"Blood traitors! How dare you defile the noble house of Black!"

Harry groaned….of all the stupid, idiotic... He had been port-keyed to the Headquarters…again.


End file.
